


Into The Good Life

by SecondFromTheRight



Series: All We Do Is Hide Away [5]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13297749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: Continuing on fromHope Of A Heart.He hates that title. He thought he was okay with the lack of labels between him and Karen, and for the most part, he is – when it’s actually just him and Karen, but when everybody else wants to know, Frank still has this problem of trying to represent her, represent them, and feeling like he fails for it. ‘Boyfriend’/’Girlfriend’ isn’t enough, doesn’t convey what they are to each other. But he hasn’t come up with what he should be using instead, what would describe them better.“I have a…a partner, yeah,” he tries, feeling it in his mouth, tasting it. “Karen.” He adds, because that’s the part that matters. She’s Karen.Frank and Karen continue to navigate their relationship. The Lieberman's want to meet Karen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this Chapter is so short, but the next one is mostly written already and it's all Frank and Karen. I'll have it up today. I'm thinking maybe 4 Chapters in total for this one.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the continuation of this Series! The appreciation for it so far has been really awesome. Thank you.

He’s seen David a few times, but only been back here at the house once. As much as he enjoys being in the company of a family, and as much as he gets along with the kids, he’s still Frank Castle, The Punisher and he doesn’t belong here. Doesn’t matter how mature they are, they shouldn’t have to deal with a fugitive in their home, with having to keep such a secret. He’d never have allowed that kind of shit to be put on his own family, so he doesn’t do it here either.

That and David continues to remind that despite all his usefulness and loyalty, he’s still a pain in the ass.

“Come on, why haven’t I met her yet?” The hacker asks. Again. “I know Curtis met her.” He tries to add to his argument. Frank looks up from the fence he’s been tasked to fix.

“You’re in contact with Curtis?” Frank asks.

“Well, I mean, in a way.” David shrugs, casually looking away.

“And what way is that?” Frank prods in an unimpressed tone.

“In a way where I’ve called him a couple times and he maybe hangs up on me after a minute of what amounts to ignoring me,” David explains. Frank shakes his head, sighing as he turns back to the fence. “I swear I can feel him rolling his eyes at me over the phone.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re a pain in the ass.” Frank points out.

“Ah-huh,” David dismisses as if Frank’s insults don’t touch him at all, going right back to nagging him about Karen. “So, why haven’t I met her?” he repeats.

“David –“

“It’s like you’re ashamed of me or something. She does know I exist, right?” David asks, his voice showing insecurity like it actually matters. Though, Frank supposes it does, because of course Karen knows who he is. Karen knows pretty much everything.

“How do you think I found out your name in the first place?” Frank smirks, enjoying the pride of it, being proud of her.

“Oh she found me? That's very impressive,” David praises, his eyes wide with excitement at the information. "I had no idea about her either. I knew I hadn’t underestimated you that much! There was no way you could have figured out my name that easily after so long of having no clue!" he carries on, almost talking to himself and not realising Frank has stopped what he's doing and is glaring at him. "You know, that’s even more reason for me to meet her.”

“Meet who?” Leo asks as she comes up to them, noseying at how much work Frank has done and the lack of it David has done.

“Frank’s lady friend.” David explains, making Frank grit his teeth. Fucking ‘lady friend’. Who says shit like that?

“You have a girlfriend, Pete?” Leo questions, making Frank even more uncomfortable. He hates that title. He thought he was okay with the lack of labels between him and Karen, and for the most part, he is – when it’s actually just him and Karen, but when everybody else wants to know, Frank still has this problem of trying to represent her, represent them, and feeling like he fails for it. ‘Boyfriend’/’Girlfriend’ isn’t enough, doesn’t convey what they are to each other. But he hasn’t come up with what he should be using instead, what would describe them better.

“I have a…a partner, yeah,” he tries, feeling it in his mouth, tasting it. “Karen.” He adds, because that’s the part that matters. She’s Karen.

“How come we haven’t met her?” Leo continues, frowning at him as if she really can’t understand why not, like it’s wrong Karen isn’t by his side the few times he’s seen them.

“You know, Leo, you don’t have to adopt all your father’s habits.” Frank says, pushing the stake into the ground as he stays on the ground.

“Pft, don’t listen to him. Two against one, now.” David boasts. The fucker actually leans against the fence Frank's just put up, crossing one leg over his other as he watches Frank.

“She can come to dinner! I’ll ask mom!” Leo declares brightly, immediately heading back into the house to do just that, practically skipping.

“I don’t get it, Frank. Aren’t you two like, sharing your lives together now?” David asks, at least more serious now, though he has the same frown his daughter wore two seconds ago, where he just doesn’t get what Frank’s doing – or not doing. He feels that niggle, that he is failing.

“Yeah, we are.” He replies, not giving further. He wonders sometimes if they're sharing a life, or he's just embedded himself into hers. Though he'd argue it's only fair, the way she embedded herself into his.

“Then why doesn’t she know your friends?” David asks simply, making Frank stop what he’s doing and look down at the grass in front of him. She knows about them. He doesn’t have friends, exactly. Because he likes to hide away with her and he’s sure she likes it too. Because he’s still terrified that this can’t last, that he’s still too broken, that she’ll be taken away, that she won’t want him forever. Take your damn pick.

“Mom says she you can both come for Sunday lunch!” Leo informs them as she runs back outside, looking much more excited than Frank is comfortable with. He never agreed to this. Zach is trailing behind her, looking interested himself.

“You have a girlfriend? Is she hot?” Zach asks.

“Hey!” Both he and David reprimand him, though Frank presumes for slightly different reasons. But he rolls his eyes, barely looking chastised.

“What does she look like?” Leo asks, apparently made curious by her brother.

“Pretty, blonde.” He answers. He refrains from saying she’s stunning, a force in a pencil skirt and heels that makes his blood sing as much as she brings a peace to him he didn’t think possible. He doesn’t think any of them want to hear that.

“Let me see,” Leo demands, holding a hand out expectantly. She rolls her eyes at him like he’s a goddamn idiot when he doesn’t do anything. “Your phone," she says obviously. "I want to see what she looks like, a picture of you together.”

“I don’t have a picture of her on this phone.” He says, trying to keep a steady tone and not give away how much it bothers him that he still doesn’t have a picture of her, or of them, on his phone. Or at all, and it really picks at him. Especially when it’s pointed out by teenagers thinking it's something wrong.

“Seriously? Why not?” Leo screws her nose up before she shakes her head. “Fine, what are her social media accounts? Any of them.”

“I'm not sure what she has.” A lie, mostly. She has at least two he knows about, for The Bulletin. He’s spent way too long scrolling through the comments and tweets she gets, looking for people taking cheap shots at her, especially when it’s about her defence or proximity to him. Karen’s had to convince him not to keep a book with a list of the fucks in case he needs to track down any of them.

“Come on!” Leo huffs, all the drama of teenager and goddamn Frank feels like such an adult from it. “God, just give me her name then and I’ll find her.”

“Actually, you could just Google her. It's an interesting experience.” David chimes in.

“Are you kidding me?” Frank glares at him, finally standing up and brushing off his jeans. David looks away but the asshole doesn't look the least bit sorry.

“Why? What does she do?” Leo questions, picking up on the implication and running with it, thankfully to a different conclusion than her relation to murder, or him, or other vigilantes.

“She's a reporter.” Frank answers, now standing with the Lieberman's who Frank swears are cornering him in against the fucking fence he's been working on.

“Oh, does she have a blog or something?” Zach asks.

“No, she’s an actual reporter. You know, a paper you physically read.” Frank teases flatly.

“Ha ha.” Zach shoots back sarcastically with another mighty case of rolling his eyes. David puts his hand on his son's shoulder.

"A writer?!” Leo questions, her eyes wide like it's the coolest fucking thing.

“Investigative reporter,” Frank corrects, quoting Karen, remembering her sleeping on the couch with him that first night. Sleepy and trusting, of him. Smiling, and teasing him. “And Nobody is Googling her.”

“Then bring her to lunch.” Leo says rather smugly. David stands next to her with the same face, Zach on his other side and the three of them looking way too victorious for Frank's liking.

“I’ll ask her, alright? Now hand me the damn hammer and let me finish this thing.” He says, giving all a glare.


	2. Chapter 2

He lets himself into Karen’s place – something he still thrills at every time. She’d given him the keys pretty early on, nervous as she'd tucked her hair behind her ear and kept looking away from him, talking about she thought it had made sense to give him a set. Made a joke about his off-hour schedule keeping her up and it would make it easier. He'd kissed her on the cheek at the time, wanting to kiss her elsewhere, unsure what to do with it all but knowing he felt good about it. And the first time he used them was after a night of being The Punisher - the version of The Punisher he is now, at least. He'd let himself in, showered and slipped into bed with her, thinking how fucking incredible it was he was allowed to do that, that she'd welcomed him in like that. Now she's so used to it she barely looks at him as he comes into the living room, only turning around and giving him a sweet smile before going back to her laptop and typing away.

“Hey.” He greets her as he goes to see her as she sits at the table, bending over and kissing her hair. She hums at him but doesn’t turn away from her screen. He looks over her shoulder. “Any less of a waste of time?” he asks, knowing this latest piece has been pissing her off. She thinks it’s fluff or something.

“Not really,” she groans, huffing out an exhale. “It’s Ellison. He wouldn’t budge.” She tilts her head back to see him, an actual pout on her face like she’s offended the editor wouldn’t do everything she demanded. Frank licks his lips and tries not to grin. “I just want to get it finished so it’s over and I never have to think about it again.”

“Fair enough.” He kisses behind her ear this time, across a mole she has there, but he leaves her be, going to the couch to sit to the sounds of her typing and occasionally groaning in frustration.

Of course the thing he ends up staring at is the picture of Karen, Foggy and Murdock. The happy trio. It’s still in the same place it was when she first invited him into the apartment last year and Frank’s convinced he looks at it more than she does. Still, it’s a picture, of her with people she loves – loved – loves, having fun. She’s cuddled up to Murdock in it, big, beautiful smile on her face, happy. Cut Foggy out of it and it's exactly the kind of picture Leo was looking for of him and Karen. Hell, maybe even with Foggy it was what she was looking for. Proof of a life together, proof of...love. Frank has no idea what their relationship was then, but he knows he and Karen aren’t like that picture. He makes her smile, makes her laugh, he makes her coffee and he makes her come; he’s pretty sure she’s happy, but out in a bar as normal people, socialising with friends like Friday night beer is the only thing that matters – they’re not like that. But maybe lunch with the Lieberman’s could be something, something that makes them more like that. Maybe Karen will like Sarah – Christ, maybe she’ll like David. Except Frank is going to have to tell her Sarah tried to put her tongue down his throat and was semi-successful. He has no fucking clue how she’s going to respond to that. Besides not being the kind of couple that spends weekend nights with drinks and friends, they’re also not the kind of couple who has normal relationship drama bullshit like he’s sure this could be.

“Done! Thank god for that,” Karen exclaims as she closes her laptop over with a celebratory slam. She gives a shudder, like she’s actually trying to get to story off her, as she stands up. She smiles bright as she makes eye contact with him and comes over to join him. “Hi!” she smiles at him as he drops down on the couch next to him. There, yeah she’s definitely happy with him.

“Hey,” he repeats, because he knows it makes her smile even more.

“Was your day better than mine?” She asks.

“The uh, the Lieberman’s – they’ve invited us to lunch, on Sunday.” He says, figuring it best to do it now.

“Oh.” She replies, looking stunned. “That’s nice of them.”

“We don’t have to go.” He offers the out immediately, not totally sure if he wants to take it himself.

“I mean, they’re…they’re kind of your friends,” she gives a small shrug. “Not mine, I mean.”

“Is that how you see it?” He asks her.

“You’ve never wanted me to meet them before.” She reasons. Her voice is soft, she’s not accusing him, doesn’t seem pissed about it at least. Though Frank is sure she would have long made it known if she was actually uncomfortable about having not met them yet.

“It’s not like we go out for beers with Foggy every weekend,” he counters, looking at her. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks away, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. A face that tells him he's going to be spending a lot more time with Franklin Nelson in the near future. “You want to go for beers with Foggy?” he assumes.

“Maybe sometimes?” she says as she faces him again, a cute expression on her face, her eyebrows raised, the slightest smile at the possibility of drinks with her friend. “Except…” she trails off as she frowns again, serious now.

“What?” he pushes, dipping his head to try to catch her eye.

“Sometimes I…I like that’s it’s just us. It feels…like home.” She reveals quietly, like feeling that way maybe isn’t what she’s supposed to be feeling. But it’s exactly how Frank feels too. He likes just them – he likes them.

“Me too.“ he tells her, relishing the soft look on her face as she stares back at him.

“Do you want to go? Do you want me to go?” she asks him.

“It’s…it’s sort of...scary, for me.” He says.

“What are you worried about?” She questions, so obviously listening to anything he has to say. He fucking loves that about her. The way she seeks, and accepts what she finds, tries to find the humanity in it.

“That someone will take you away from me.” He almost whispers, gruffly, and with a deep breath.

“The Lieberman’s?” She asks rhetorically, a tiny amused smile on her face at the scenario, pointing out the ridiculousness without telling him he’s ridiculous.

“I trusted Schoonover. I trusted Bill.” He argues.

“And you trust David. Frank, you’re not wrong to. And rationally…he already knows about me, right? Meeting me or not…it isn’t going to change much, even if there was something to worry about, which there isn't.” She tells him carefully, with understanding. And she’s right. Of course she’s fucking right. And he’s done this before, with Curtis. Different, sure, but same principle, and he doesn’t regret that. He can do it again. She does deserve it. And David will stop nagging him as a damn plus.

“Sunday lunch it is then.” He nods, knowing it’s right even more when another smile spreads over her face, like she’s actually excited to meet them. It’s not beers in a bar, but it’s something.

“Okay.” She says, smiling at him still.

“Okay.” He gently nods, smiling back at her.

“Okay.” She continues their back and forth that started what seems like so long ago now, but she giggles now. The associations of it, what it means lighting up her face. And fuck he doesn’t want to take that look away, but this conversation isn’t done yet.

“There's uh,…there's something I need to tell you.” He starts. She frowns slightly but doesn’t look concerned.

“Not something most people like to hear,” she says with a bit of a joke. “What is it?”

“Last year, when everything went down... Sarah and I kissed.” He reveals, holding his breath.

“Oh!” Shock, but not anger. That’s gotta be a good start, surely to Christ. “Uh. Okay.” She nods once, her eyes looking at the coffee table in front of them like she’s trying to figure out what she actually thinks about it.

“It wasn’t anything,” he assures. “I just didn’t want you to go there not knowing.” Cuz that really is what this is about. The idea that she finds out when she’s there or she’s ambushed with it not knowing, makes him feel sick.

“You kissed David’s wife? Doesn’t he have a problem with that?” she questions with confusion, clearly still processing it. A decidedly non-adult, asshole part of him wants to fire back 'she kissed me!', but he respects Sarah and he doesn't think it's going to help him here anyway.

“He did when it happened, yeah.” Frank doesn’t blame him, even if he was a dramatic pain in the ass over the whole fucking thing.

“But not anymore?” She raises her eyebrows, her hair moving as she shakes her head. “What changed?” Karen asks, always trying to understand.

“I told him plain and simple that I didn’t want his wife.” Frank explains, kind of hoping it will work as well in this conversation as it did then.

“But she…she wants you?” She queries, frowning now as she looks at him. There still isn’t any anger to her, but she is still much more unsure than he’d like.

“No. She missed her husband. Thought he was dead. And I was there.” He explains, straight to the point. It was never about him – how could it have been when he’d effectively faked who he was and she didn’t have a goddamn clue who he was or what he was about.

“And you missed Maria.” she states, like she’s done questioning because she thinks she gets it now. But Frank doesn’t think she does get it, he’s not even sure he gets it.

“I guess.” He goes with. He can’t lie to her, and he doesn’t want to have that conversation when he isn’t sure of the truth of it. He always misses Maria, but he remembers telling Sarah that Maria was gone, and actually feeling like he was maybe accepting it. He remembers telling Sarah she shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to live the rest of her life – with someone else. And that she should feel whatever she feels. He doesn’t remember consciously thinking of Karen when he said those things, which is why he doesn’t want to tell her it was about her, but how could it not be, considering everything? The only person Frank ever had anything like a want, a hint, a goddamn suggestion of possibility of who he could feel about again, is Karen.

“You guess?” She questions, outright frowning now like she’s the most unsure about the whole thing she’s been this damn conversation.

“I was…maybe lonely, I think. But it wasn’t like…I didn’t know it was going to happen, yeah?” he tries to explain, tries to find something to explains how it actually was. “She’d been drinking, I’d brought her flowers –“

“You brought her flowers but didn’t know it was going to happen?” Karen questions, cutting him off. And shit, it’s with judgement. And like she’s questioning him now. He isn’t sure what’s going through her head.

“Why does it feel like nothing I say is going to work here?” he wonders honestly, because fuck. She turns away from him then, brushing her skirt and it’s like he feels her going cold. All the walls going up and fuck this. This is ridiculous.

“It’s none of my business anyway,” she says dismissively. “I mean, I thought you might have…but I wasn’t sure.” She adds with a shake of her head and what the fuck?

“Might have what? Christ sake, Karen, what exactly did you think? Give me some fucking credit.” He rants, feeling offended. What, like he’s hooked up with a bunch of women? That he had any fucking interest in doing so? That she isn’t the only woman besides his wife that he’s wanted? Frank’s a lot of things, but sleaze or flirt or whatever the fuck she’s apparently thinking isn’t one of them. She’s the first woman he’s wanted at all since he lost his family. How can she not know that? She must fucking know that.

“Frank, it really isn’t my business.” She says almost politely, and still not looking at him. This is bullshit.

“Don’t do that. It is your business.” He shifts next to her, closer to her, face on, and crowding her.

“But we weren’t together then, right?” she shrugs. “It was before us. So it’s –“

“But we were still…I didn’t want her, alright,” he interrupts her. “I wanted… I didn’t mean for it to happen. David asked me to go over to check everything was okay, I needed an excuse so I took flowers. I didn’t think… It wasn't like…it wasn't like you, okay? I took her Maria’s favourite for god sake. Not roses, not hyacinths. There was nothing…nothing about her, in it. She kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it. And I stopped it.” He lists off, trying to explain, watching her face. He hates that she still won't look at him. He wants to yank at her to just fucking look at him. He’d never touch her like that but he can feel the want of it running through him.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” She concludes flatly, like she’s fine for this conversation to be over on that note and fuck that.

“Stop doing that, Karen!” he yells at her. She flinches, barely, but still there. “Jesus,” He exhales getting up and pacing. He’s losing control and that’s not acceptable. She tilts her head down now, avoiding him from his new position. “I don’t give a shit about whatever bullshit says we don’t get to have expectations here, or don’t get to question or whatever we're supposed to do, alright? We were…we were a maybe, then, the only maybe that was ever going to happen in my life again. Now we’re…” he swallows. Titles, fucking goddamn titles. She’s what? His everything? Fuck! “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter. I’m telling you now because you're going to meet them and you should know. If you wanna question me about it, if you wanna fucking yell at me about it, do it. I’m making it your damn business.” He tries, standing watching her.

Her expression changes for the first time since she turned away from, declaring it wasn’t anything to do with her, with them. Cracking. He fucking hates that she feels she has to shut down in front of him, has to hide anything from him, that she has to protect herself, from him. And not like the rest of the city would, not because he’s violent, but her heart. As if he’d do anything to harm it, as if he wouldn’t maim and torture anybody who did, in her defence. “Karen.” He whispers, trying to break through. Her shoulders slump and she looks at him, finally, and so fucking cautiously, but he’ll take it.

He walks in front of her, shoves the coffee table back and sits on it right in front of her. He grabs her hands before she can pull back and lean against the couch, distancing them again. “Just talk to me. Cuz whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re worried about or whatever it is that has you pulling away from me right now? It’s bullshit. So please, just…please.” He pleads with her, thinking about how easily he's always done so. She's always turned him into a vulnerable mess in some ways, taking down every wall he wasn't ready to lose.

“I’m sorry.” She apologies, so quietly. And Frank tries not to sigh because he isn’t sure that’s better.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. And I’m…” he’s not going to apologise either, because he doesn’t think he has anything to be sorry for either. Should he have told her before now? Maybe, but didn’t mean jack shit. It still doesn’t. It only means something because he doesn’t want to have anything to do with putting her a situation that could embarrass her. “it’s just you, alright.” He promises, feeling a of jackass for it, because how is there even a question.

“I don’t know why.” She says of her reaction, not meeting his eye and he knows it’s not exactly true, so he continues staring at her. He brushes his thumb over her palm, reminds her he’s here. “I just… I guess it’s just there’s…some parts of your life I don’t know about?” There's a definite tone of a question in that sentence that he doesn’t totally understand. Is it what she believes or is it what she fears? Feels like the latter.

“That’s not true,” He argues, figuring it is the fear option and he needs to fix that, needs to make sure she knows how it actually is. “You know more about me than anyone. You’ve been involved with everything more than anyone. I talked to you about my family, about the day I lost them, the second we were alone together. You were one of the only people who knew I was alive." Her, and fucking Murdock of all people and only them for a while, then Curtis. "What is it you think you don’t know? Micro? You’re the one I went to for help finding him, Karen, and you delivered. Everything else…it’s their relationship. And you know a lot of it. I promise, it’s not MY life. My life is…my life is in this apartment.” Corny as shit, maybe, but still fucking true. And the way she presses her lips together to stop the tears filling her eyes makes it worth it.

He watches her nod, swallows.

“Hey,” he says, wanting her to meet his eyes again. “I get it, yeah? When I first came back here…didn’t know who Ben was, Doris. It terrified me,” he says, watching her listen to him. She searches his eyes and he really hopes she finds the truth in them. She should, she always has before. “Thinking maybe I wasn't as close as I thought I was, didn’t matter as much, that maybe we weren’t what I felt we were. Scared the shit out of me,” she squeezes his hand and the eye contact he wanted doesn’t let up as she continues staring at him. “But even the new stuff, the stuff I didn’t know about you? Didn’t change anything. I knew you. I might not have known the details, but I knew you.” She licks her lips and he tracks it for a second before leaning forward and kissing her, soothing himself as much as her, finally tugging her towards him like he wanted, but without the frustration.

“And what happened with Sarah isn’t like that," he says quietly as he pulls back. "This isn’t a big thing, Karen. It was something that happened in two minutes, was awkward as shit and didn’t leave that two minute window. Except for David to yell at me because he watched it on his creepy-ass feed,” Karen lets out a laugh, placing her fingers over her lips to stop it. Frank's so fucking thankful to hear it, making him smile back. “Yeah, hilarious. Son of a bitch got drunk, pulled his dick out and tried to tell me I couldn’t take his wife because he was bigger. Next day was better, when he’d actually fucking listen to me. I didn’t want her, don’t want her. And she missed him.” He says it again with some caution, worried she’ll go back to thinking it was about Maria which is where this seemed to go to shit, like she would have understood that, but faced with Frank telling her it wasn’t, it got her thinking all sorts of shit.

“And after that?” she asks.

“Hm?” He frowns at her.

“How’d you get from…who has a bigger dick and awkward," she says with a silent laugh. "To…the next part of things?”

“You. Lewis Wilson.” he says honestly, watching her smile be replaced with a questioning frown. “Your reply to Wilson. And David knew about your interview, was referring to you as my “girlfriend” by then. And he saw...how I felt about you. That day I went after Wilson, because of you. Because I couldn’t let anything happen to you. Then everyone knew I was alive. Bill... and David contacted Madani, because he’d watched me go after Wilson, to protect you, and he wanted to protect his own family, wanted them back.” He wants to tell her exactly what David told him, that they had to protect the ones they love...but he holds it back, for now. That can't be said...like this, during some kind of relationship drama argument when he's panicking.

“Oh.” she blinks at him.

“And what happened - you’ll see it was nothing when you meet them. If you still want to?” he asks, tilting his head at her, trying to read her.

“Yes.” She says as she lets out a breath.

“Okay.” He agrees, squeezing her hand and staring at her.

“Okay.” She shakes her head with a smile, like she knows she's just playing along with their back and forth now, that he set it up. Frank doesn't care though because she said it back.

“Okay,” he smirks, breathing out a sigh of relief. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers. “You can still yell at me if you want.” He offers.

“I’ll let you know.” She says and he looks down at her lips, the curve of her smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this! I had some real life stuff that had to be done first. This Chapter is also shorter than I originally thought it would be so I think there will now be 5 Chapters to this. I hope that's okay!
> 
> Thank you so much for the support and encouragement of this Series, as always!

When he sees her he starts to realise what they’re actually doing. They’re not just meeting friends for a coffee, they’re not even just meeting friends for lunch – and it’s not like when he introduced her to Curtis – they’re going to a family meal. In the suburbs.

Karen looks down at herself, at her outfit, and back up at him, worry on her face.

“What is it? Am I not… I don’t really have anything nicer. I’m not really a…dinner party person. Meal!" she corrects herself, showing her nerves. "I mean, I know it’s not…" she gestures with her hands, trailing off. "I can change.” she concludes, offering it like maybe she should.

“You look great.” He assures her, simply.

And it gets worse in a way because looking at her, he kind of wishes they were going out for drinks, out for a night. Suddenly he wants to see what Karen Page looks like dressed up. There’s a new curiosity he can feel tugging at him and he wants to grab hold and see where it leads to.

“Thanks. You look nice too.” she says quietly as she looks at him, a soft smile on her face.

He’s in a shirt. It’s cotton, sleeves rolled up his forearms and 3 buttons open and it’s paired with black jeans, but it’s still a black shirt he’s put on for the sake of looking nice. A black shirt he’s put on for the sake of looking nice - that he bought just for today. And one that shows against the green of her dress. It’s the first time he’s seen her in a dress like that. Kind of loose and floaty. One decidedly not for work. Her shoulders are bare. And somehow her hair looks different. Bouncier or some shit, which he knows is fucking ridiculous but he's sure the curls at the end are different.

“Yeah, I figured David would start mouthing off if I didn’t, you know, make an effort.” He clears his throat.

“Well, effort made, I think.” She smiles at him, her approval warming him.

She grabs a different purse too. Small. There's no way her gun is in it, not unless it's the only thing in there. She takes her usual coat, tucking it over her arm. Frank finds something like relief, reassurance, something that grounds him and lifts him, something Karen, in the fact that he knows that coat.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” she asks him, concern in the furrow of her brows. One last check of him before they do this thing. One last offer of an out for him. She did the same thing when they went to meet Curtis and he wonders how nervous he actually seems. He has her offering other choices running through his mind. Pleading not guilty, actually trying a trial, not killing Schoonover, going from that elevator, staying with her, an after.

“I am. It’ll be…good, for us. I want you to meet them.” He says as direct as he be and thinking about her wanting to go for beers with Foggy. He doesn’t want her immediate reaction to always be checking to see things are okay with him, making sure that he’s not a second away from falling apart.

“Yeah?” she asks, her eyes bright.

“Absolutely. Come on, we’re taking a cab.”

“We are?” She questions with surprise as she looks at him.

“We are.”

He puts his arm on the small of her back as he guides her out of the apartment. She’s looking at him with that smile. Like she’s excited. Often she bites her lip, or covers her mouth with her fingers, hiding it away like she’s not allowed to feel it. Like she’s afraid it will be taken away from her. He knows that feeling.

 

A snort of amusement comes from her beside him on the ride over.

“What?” he asks with a frown.

“You’re just so obvious.” She whispers at him as she grins. Frank look at the cab driver from the corner of his eye to see if he thinks Frank’s assessment of him and his cab is as obvious. Karen lets out another chuckle at the movement. When he turns back to her she’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes at him, smile still present. She brings her hand to her mouth, biting on the tip of her thumb as her elbow rests against the door as she looks out the window.

He kind of wants to grumble. He’s on camera for Christ sake, both of them are, and he’s very aware of it. He’s in a New York City cab! He figures he’s allowed a little caution. But he enjoys her laugh too much to have a go about it.

 

Frank is half convinced the lot of them were waiting by the fucking window for them to arrive and he’s even more convinced it was David leading the damn charge. He can picture him shushing the rest of them as they peek through the fucking curtains which Sarah is miraculously opening just as he and Karen walk up the drive.

He lets out a deep sigh before they get to the door.

“It’s kind of sweet,” Karen defends, obviously having clocked the fuckers too. He glares his discontentment. “Be nice.” She adds. Then she takes his hand, slipping her fingers against his as he knocks on the green door with his other hand. He’s staring at her as David opens the door, sees her smile upon her first look at the hacker.

He only looks towards the Lieberman's when he hears Leo say “Hi Pete! Hi Karen!”, more excitement added with the second name.

“Hi.” Karen greets her, the smile in her voice so obvious.

“I’m Leo!” she announces as she stands next to her father.

“Well it’s really nice to meet you, Leo.”

“Come on!” Leo says as she effectively shoves David out the way as she grabs Karen hand and drags her through the doorway and inside.

“Uhm.” Karen looks back at him and David unsurely as Frank takes a step forward into the house. Her face is conflicted and she seems to acknowledge David – and that she hasn’t actually met him yet – but she follows Leo.

“What just happened?” David questions as he stares after them.

“You just lost your two against one.” Frank says flatly, giving him a slap on the shoulder, David jerking forward from the impact but he doesn’t look at him as Frank leaves the man standing at the open door by himself.

“But we had a plan.” He hears David mutter to himself, sounding dismayed.

“Hey.” Zach greets him from the couch.

“Hey, how's it going?” Frank asks him.

“Mom is freaking out about lunch and Leo won’t stop talking about your girlfriend.” he informs in a bored tone.

“Karen.” Frank corrects, partly without thinking about it.

“Page, yeah, I know. We googled her.” Zach reveals. Frank turns to glare at David who joins them.

“It was supervised Googling! They were gonna look her up by themselves anyway. We struck a deal, right buddy?” David defends.

“Yep." Zach backs.

Frank wipes his face tiredly before he makes a point to step closer to David and stand directly in front of him, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you want me to hit you?” Frank rhetorically asks in a low voice, quiet enough that Zach can't hear and that David has to lower his head to understand him.

“No, I don’t.” David says unnecessarily, and with what Frank considers huffiness. He's such a goddamn annoying shit sometimes. Frank gives him one last glare before he heads to the kitchen, eyeing Zach as he sits on the couch looking amused by Frank being so ruffled. He's definitely his father's son.

Moving through the house he finds Karen and Leo next to the kitchen table and Frank realises he's missed Karen and Sarah meeting; he really hopes it wasn't fucking weird. And more so, that she isn't pissed at him for not being there for it. Karen actually has a pile of books in her hand and Leo is talking at her, her ponytail swishing back and forth with how animated she is. Karen looks a bit stunned, but then she smiles, and Leo's own smile widens, her whole face lighting up. Then they both laugh. Leo is looking up at Karen who is much taller than her, and it’s with a level of obvious awe that has Frank’s throat closing up.

David shows his competency, his awareness, as he moves past Frank and he interrupts the two.

“Sweetheart?" David addresses Leo. "Do you think I could meet Miss Page now?”

“Sorry! Karen, this is my dad!” Leo introduces, like she’s Karen’s friend. Karen seamlessly shifts the books in her hand from flat to standing, wrapping her arm around them and bringing them to her a chest . She holds her free hand out to David, that sweet Karen Page smile on her face that disarms any fucker around, including him – especially him.

“Hi,” she says, indulgent of Leo's introduction as she and David shake hands. “It’s really great to finally meet you.”

"You too, finally." David repeats Karen's wording, adding judgement to it that Karen didn't imply.

“David, can you get Pete and Karen drinks please?” Sarah asks from the other side of the kitchen, from behind the large cabinet island that splits the room.

“Sure.” David replies.

"And put their jackets away!" She adds. “Hi, Pete.” Sarah greets Frank, popping her head around the cabinet to see him as David takes Karen's coat from the chair it was draped on, along with her purse.

“Hey, Sarah. Food smells good.” Frank compliments as she disappears again. David gestures for his jacket, putting a grabbing hand in his face. Frank takes his jacket off, refraining from shoving it at the man when he wiggles his eyebrows at Karen standing next to him.

“Thanks. I'm just hoping it will taste as good,” Sarah says, still blocked from view. “Zach! I thought you were going to help do the table?" She calls. "Leo, can you get your brother, please.” She requests as everybody gets involved now, a total flurry of activity as the Lieberman’s go back and forth.

“Can I do anything?” Karen offers as she looks at the comings and goings.

“No, no. Thank you, that’s sweet, but I think I’m good,” Sarah says as she briefly shows herself, her hands raised as she looks at the kitchen, clearly checking she’s on track for everything. “Everything’s nearly done.” She concludes, gone from view again. Frank’s wondering if he should move himself and Karen to the other side when David comes back from hanging up their coats.

“Beer, Frank?” he asks him.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Karen? What would you like?” he asks, turning to her next to him.

“Oh, uh-" she hesitates.

“We’re drinking red, but there’s a bottle of white I could open if you’d prefer?” Sarah offers, hidden from sight.

“Red would be great, thank you.” Karen accepts politely, turning around as Leo comes back into the room with Zach and approaches Karen.

“What are you doing with all of this?” Frank asks Leo, tapping the books still in Karen’s arm.

“I wanted Karen’s opinion.” Leo, totally earnestly.

“Thanks.” Karen says as she takes the glass of red wine David offers her; Frank accepts his beer with a nod.

“I’ll take those.” David offers as he slips the books out of Karen’s arms, effectively trading the books for the alcohol.

“But –“ Leo protests, looking at the three of them like they’ve away taken her toy.

“S’okay, we can finish after lunch.” Karen reassures Leo who seems to accept the compromise, her look of utter loss being replaced by one only somewhat disappointed as she walks around them to help Zach. The second reaction is more like the mature teenager he's known her as. Frank wonders if David being back has allowed her to step back from the responsibility she seemed to take on after his 'death'. Leo and Zach immediately start bickering in hushed whispers.

“Hey,” Frank says quietly to Karen, assessing her as she watches the activity around her. “Okay?” he asks, tilting his head to look at her, catching her eye.

“I’m great.” She smiles at him.

“We need another spoon!” Zach announces loudly as he sets the table next to them.

“Damnit, I thought there was enough there,” Sarah mutters from behind the cabinet the other side of them. “Well, we won’t need them till dessert. Just take all the spoons off.” She adds.

Frank continues staring at Karen, for her and for him.

“Frank, I’m fine,” she assures him quietly, acknowledging his attention of her. “It’s kinda nice.” She gives a half shrug, a small smile on her face. Frank takes a deep breath, not as okay as Karen seems to be. It’s so loud, all Lieberman’s running around. He hadn’t realised how much he’s come to rely on the quiet, how he's adjusted. The activity around him is like chaos screaming in his mind. Chaos of a family, a chaos he hasn’t experienced in such a long time. His experiences with the Lieberman’s include family situations, but not like this, not all of them being so plainly normal, not David being there too, acting out the father role, working in tandem with his wife as Leo and Zach do as their told and challenge and act out against in equal measure. “Frank.” He hears Karen breath next to them, the same way she always has, so carefully, like she’s trying to get through to him, like she’s giving life to what's often been the dead presence of him, just by breathing his name.

He crowds against her, walking her back the two, three steps towards the end of the cabinet, away from the side of the room with so much noise, so much life, and side-stepping her so he’s the one with his back at the cabinet. The beer hangs at his side, clenched in his hand. He closes his eyes, tries to take some breaths, but it’s still so loud. Sarah and David are opening drawers and moving back and forth, the oven being opened. Leo and Zach are scraping things around on the table, the clinking of cutlery so goddamn violent in his mind. And he can’t focus enough on Karen, can’t focus only on Karen. He wants to touch her, wants to lean forward and press his forehead against hers, but they’re in the Lieberman’s kitchen - he doesn’t even know if Karen would feel okay doing that here. Then he feels her fingers on his shirt, hooking between two buttons as she places her palm against his torso.

Frank opens his eyes to look at her, desperate for the peace it could give him. She’s already looking at him when he opens his eyes, concern, care, understanding, love – that has to be love. She doesn’t say anything. She still has her wine glass in her hand, curled and balanced against her chest as her other hand remains on him. Frank can see Leo and Zach still moving around behind her by the table. He grabs at her hand, securing it against his body. Her mouth turns up as she looks back at him, never losing eye contact with him. Frank lets out a long exhale of breath, the first breath within the last few minutes that he doesn’t have to think about as he makes it. A crease between her eyebrows clearly asks him if he’s okay. Frank nods at her. He lets the ghosts of his dead family echo in his mind, waiting it out by staring at the face of the family he still has, still lives for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it turns out I can't write Micro well at all. I don't know why. And I can only apologise for it.
> 
> And the ending between Frank and Karen is supposed to mirror Matt and Elektra, with distinct but subtle difference.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments on this. They really help motivate me continuing this. As I've said before, if anybody wants to communicate with me, I promise to be responsive on tumblr.
> 
> <https://secondfromtheright.tumblr.com/>


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this took. Originally I wanted more in this Chapter but I decided to split it so I could post something. I had a lot more time over the holiday break.

There’s a dread running through him as Sarah starts plating things up. He remembers his dream, in this house, at this table, some kind of what if that haunted him. He keeps his attention on Karen, thinking she’s the main thing that breaks up the imagery and similarity of that dream. This is a different life, one that’s actually real.

It starts to fade when Sarah directs him and Karen to sit together on one side of the table, and even more when Leo and Zach take the seats across, leaving Sarah and David to take the head of each side. More to break it up. He’s not head at the table, he’s not being toasted to, he’s not the centre of attention. And that happy shine - that glossy, happy, painted smiles all around fake bullshit that wasn’t like anything he ever lived, isn’t there. And as much as that what if still hurts – that they will never have dinner with David's family, will never even meet them – this is better than that what if. This is real. But still, he tries not to look around the room too much, keeps his head down, in case he feels the absence of them too much.

He puts food in his mouth, drinks his beer, watches Karen’s hand and the blonde of her hair out the corner of his eye. There’s no blonde in that dream, no blonde in any dream where he watches his family die. So he focuses on the blonde of her. Like some fucking golden light blinding out the horrors of all the dark. Blonde is real now, blonde represents his life now, is his life now. As long as there's blonde edging his vision, it'll be alright.

David is talking to Karen about some of the consultancy work he’s doing. Frank already knows about it – David told him. Karen already knows too – Frank’s told her. But she’s making noises as if she’s interested anyway, asking him questions.

“You write about crime, right? So you've seen like, dead bodies and stuff?” Zach asks from the end of the table, looking at Karen across from him and everybody stops, a dead silence blanketing them that he wasn't expecting. He’s sure none of them were. It passes quickly, Sarah reacting first.

“Zach!” She admonishes.

“It’s okay,” Karen reassures, looking at Sarah on her left before she turns to Zach. “Yeah, I have. And I’ve had people try to kill me, more than once. And I’ve seen people killed in front of me.”

“Oh. Is it…what was it like?” He questions quietly, timidly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Karen and dropping to the table and it's silence again. So quiet, forks all stilled and he’s sure he can hear David and Sarah holding their breaths. Frank hasn’t asked how Zach is doing since David came back to his family, not specifically. He thinks about last year, holding that knife to his throat, the upset of him, how lost and afraid he was, that he'd wanted to die. Is he still like that? Still feeling that way? Is it just morbid curiosity? Did what they went through because of him and David make it all worse? Frank keeps his mouth shut. Maybe this is what Zach needs, to deal with all they went through. He’d thought he’d seen his father killed right in front of him for Christ sake. And Frank fucked it up before, he doesn't have the right to step in now.

“Awful,” Karen says honestly as she keeps eye contact with Zach. “Really awful.”

“Were you scared?” Leo asks, apparently they’re some kind of team. Frank envisioning nights they stay up together scared – too scared to talk to their parents that would give the world for them, that did give the world for them.

“Terrified. I’m scared in my own home sometimes.” Karen says and Frank thinks of her waking up worried, looking for him.

“But the heroes save you, right? We…we saw some of your articles about them.” Leo says, more shy, more cautious than Frank is used to seeing her as she briefly looks at her dad sitting next to him before she faces away again. Frank watches David’s head drop forward as he gently lets go of his fork. Then the hacker's body stills all but for the deep, slow breath he takes.

“They do. But it’s still scary. And they can’t always be there.” Karen says gently, but her voice is steady, and Frank knows she’s the only one at this table who can pull that off right now.

“But there isn’t anybody else.” Zach concludes. Frank takes his own breath, trying not to break out in a rage, trying not to yell and roar and hurt every fucker that’s made them feel that way, including himself.

“I know a really good detective who would disagree with you on that.” Karen argues, some humour in her voice, Frank can hear the smile, knows it, knows it’s comforted him more than once, brought him down from the edge more than once.

“He must be the only one.” Zach mutters. It’s quiet, because Karen is getting to them or out of politeness, he isn’t sure. He’d guess the first but he’s biased as fuck. Either way, there’s still some resentment in that response, anger. And neither of them are looking at Karen anymore, both with their heads down. Part of him feels like he isn’t even here, isn’t really in the room with them. Parts of it feels as distance as some of his dream did and that fucking terrifies him. He thinks of Brett Mahoney, pictures the guy, even pictures him trying to convince Frank to let Karen go, just for something to connect with in the conversation going on around him.

“He’s not, I promise. I know you guys went through…” she trials off next to him. He can still see the blonde of her. He feels like he can’t turn his head to properly look at her, but he can still see the blonde, and the movement of her hair. “And I know how it feels when you feel like you can’t trust the people who are supposed to keep you safe, when the system fails, when…when you’re scared of the city. A cop attacked me too.” She reveals, a reveal he’s been on that side of experiencing. He knows it costs her to say it.

“Really? How’d you get away?” Leo asks, with a an expression that reminds Frank of her hero-worship of Karen earlier, like she has all the answers.

“I…I scratched and clawed, and then I screamed really, really loudly,” she breaks out a soft, self-depreciating chuckle and all images of Brett Mahoney leave his mind and all he can see is Karen screaming for her life, terrified in a fucking cell, and finally he feel like he can move again. He pushes through whatever had him because he has to be here for this. He can see the swish of her hair as she shakes her head as he turns to face her at his side. “And then I found more help. I know you did that too.” Karen acknowledges Leo who looks to her dad, and then to him and Frank's voice is his own again.

“None of us are gonna let anything happen to either of you, you hear me?” Frank promises them.

“You mean again.” Zach points out, making Frank swallow any other words he was going to say. Frank knows Zach meant what happened to them, but all he can see is his family, how much he failed them. He didn’t keep them safe.

“We're back together,” Sarah leans forward towards Zach, grabbing his hand in her own. “That’s what matters. Your dad protected us before, he always will.” Sarah reassures them, making her own promises. But neither look at her, instead both of them go back to looking down at their laps, leaning back in their seats.

“You don’t believe that?” David asks them, speaking for the first time. Maybe he lost his mind like Frank did, or maybe he’s too used to looking at them through a screen that he doesn’t know how to react anymore.

“I don’t know.” Zach says quietly, and with guilt, like he feels bad for not having that kind of faith in his dad, in anyone.

“I don’t want to need protecting.” Leo adds, and there’s a resilience there he recognises. For the third time there’s silence. Sarah is still holding Zach's hand, covering it with both of her own and looking like she's trying not to cry. David’s quiet again. And what the fuck is Frank supposed to say? He knows exactly the kind of shit out there that they do need protecting from. And he knows it doesn’t always look like you think it will. They’ve learned that already.

“It wasn’t writing about crime that got me into dangerous times,” Karen is the one to break the silence again. “That happened before, when, like your dad, doing my job meant that I got in the way of the bad guys,” she briefly looks over at David and Frank realises he wants her to look at him too. He can feel the heat of her, but he can’t see her. The blonde isn't enough anymore, he needs the blue of her eyes. “But even before then…that…that wasn’t my first experience of death.” She says taking a breath, and Frank’s sure he’s the only one who will pick up on it but there’s a shake in her voice, the first she’s shown. She tucks her hair behind her ear, letting him see some of her face.

“Karen, you don’t need to –“ It’s out of his mouth before he even realises it.

“Frank, it's okay, really,” She reassures him as she turns to him and it’s just them again. Finally she’s looking at him and he wishes he hadn’t thought it, not for this. She gives him a soft smile, like it’s just them for her too, as she assures him without words. Then she faces the rest of the table again, directly at Zach and Frank shouldn’t question it, shouldn’t wonder how the fuck she knows what Zach is going through, what he needs, but part of him is still just so in awe of her all the goddamn time. “My brother died, when we were teenagers. He was in an accident,” she starts to tell them. Frank puts his hand on her thigh, thankful when she finds fingers with her own. He curls his hand around hers, gripping tightly, trying to help, just trying to do something so he is anything other than the asshole who brought her into this, where she has to tell strangers one of her greatest losses, greatest guilt, because she’s good and wants to help, connect. “We both… We didn’t always exactly get along. He was my annoying brother sometimes. But I miss him every day. I wish he could see my life, how it turned out. I wish he could have found out that there’s a whole world out there, that he’d gotten to decide what he wanted, make his choices.” She stares at Zach, making sure he gets her point. “Yeah?” she asks him.

“Yeah.” He nods his head as he stares back at her.

“Oh, my baby.” Sarah sniffs, moving in with a way that shows how difficult it’s been for her to stay in her seat. She wraps her arms around Zach, reaching with one to try and include Leo as well.

"Mom, get off." Zach complains awkwardly, like the embarrassed teenager he is, who he should be. Leo smirks besides him as she watches the humiliation of her brother.  
“You know Daredevil, right?” Leo asks, probably thinking she’s changing the subject for something less touchy. If she only fucking knew.

“Did you guys read everything I’ve ever published or something?” Karen jokes, delaying.

"You haven’t written about him in a while." Leo shrugs.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Karen says. There's a warmth in her voice, but Frank knows this isn't easy for her.

"I thought you preferred fictional heroes." Frank says, trying to move this along.

“My friends talk about him," Leo explains. "Is he gone? My friend Tori said he must be.”

“I don’t know.” Karen says with seriousness, and honestly. Enough that it nags at Frank, making him wonder if she's expecting Red to come back - if she's waiting for Red to come back. She doesn’t keep eye contact this time, looking looks down at the table instead. Frank can feel her fist her hand under his. He removes his and then uncurl hers as best he can with one hand, trying to calm her.

“I don’t really keep up with all that,” Sarah comments as she sits back in her chair and takes a drink of her wine. “Isn’t there a group of them or something?”

“The Defenders.” Zach says, the first to start poking at his food again.

“They’re uh, they’re an interesting group of people.” Karen adds. Frank scoffs, happy for the put upon look that Karen gives as she turns to face him again. This isn’t a new topic of discussion. Frank’s never met any of them, has done his best not to. He’s seen all of them - none of them have the subtlety Red did. The Rand guy is the worst, especially because he thinks he’s the best. Jackass with a fucking golden fist running around thinking he’s the shit. And Frank’s convinced Jessica Jones doesn’t even try, doesn’t seem to give a damn about who sees her. He’s seen how she deals with people too. And Cage, Frank’s only seen him when he’s tagging along with one of the other two, usually giving them some kind of lecture of word of caution that makes Frank think he probably would have liked Red. They either would have gotten along or butted heads at every turn, Frank’s sure. They’re a group he wants nothing to do with. And he and Karen have had that conversation more than once. He knows she's in contact with some of them.

“That is a conversation we should be having.” David says, pointing a finger as he rests his elbow on the table. Frank’s about to threaten to hit him again.

“Oh, I never reveal my sources.” Karen denies him with some good-natured teasing.

“I bet Frank’s happy about that.” David shoots back, briefly looking at him.

“Watch it, Lieberman.” Frank says, playing along. Their time in the bunker that created their partnership wasn’t for nothing.

“I think you could take him, dad.“ Leo encourages, doing exactly as they hoped.

“Thanks, Leo. I may need you and Zach to sit on him, hold him down for me.” David says, giving a wink to Zach at the other side of the table from him.

“Good luck with that.” Frank grunts at them, giving a half-smirk. Then he inclines his head towards David at his right, giving a single nod and turning the palm of his hand that’s resting on the table enough to give David a small thumbs up the others can’t see. Karen’s hand is still in his other on her thigh. He squeezes her hand when he realises David and Sarah probably want to do the same thing just now, but can’t because there’s a table between them. Frank feels lucky when she squeezes back, even more when she then turns her hand and spreads her fingers under his, letting him link his fingers with hers, resetting their grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the focus on Lieberman turmoil is okay. I just figure their adjustment wouldn't have been simple and there's a lot of relevance and perspective that Karen could offer and I think is really worth exploring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!

Frank and Karen are keeping Sarah company in the kitchen as she clears the table. David is out front with Leo and Zach. Frank wanted to give them time to deal with earlier, figures David wants to talk things over with them. Karen’s tried a couple of times to help Sarah, picking up glasses and bringing them to the counter, but Sarah kept taking them off her and finally Karen stood next to him instead.

“Thank you for before, for what you said to Zach.” Sarah says to Karen as she piles the desserts plates.

“You’re welcome,” Karen folds her arms next to him, a small tell she’s uncomfortable and he tries not to frown. “I hope I helped. Is he okay?” Karen asks. Sarah stills, letting go of the napkins she was gathering together.

“He, uh… he struggled when David was gone,” Sarah starts, looking back at them and meeting Frank’s eyes. Frank remembers how much of an asshole he is when his first thought is not about the wellbeing of Zach, about how he was last year – that is a close second, coming a split second after – but his immediate thought is about how Karen will take that very obviously private look to him from Sarah. He didn’t tell Karen about Zach. It wasn’t his place, and he didn’t think it mattered much anymore. He thought David being back would have shifted all of that. “I thought it would get better now – and it has. He seems happy again. But sometimes…" She sighs. "I think we’re all having some trust issues but Zach's peers can be mean. And they don’t exactly make an announcement when your parent comes back from the dead, telling the world that he’s not actually the traitor they made him out to be.” Sarah chuckles darkly as she picks up the napkins and puts them on top of the plates.

“I could tell them.” Karen suggestions, making both him and Sarah look at her.

“Sorry?” Sarah frowns in confusion.

“An announcement. I could write something. A New York Bulletin article. Set the record straight.” Karen clarifies, gesturing her hands now, showing she’s on much more comfortable ground with this conversation.

“You could do that?” Sarah questions as she stares at Karen wide-eyed.

“Absolutely. I mean, we’d have to bend the truth some,” she turns to Frank then, acknowledging his part of things. “But we can work something. If it helps?” she checks, looking back at Sarah.

“That would be amazing!” Sarah exclaims, still staring at the blonde next to him, like she’s offered the answer to everything, and Frank thinks she may have. “Thank you, Karen!”

“I’ll have to check with my editor, but I don’t really see a problem. I’ll get it okayed with Madani too,” she turns to him again and Frank watches her face. The passion, the competence, now that she’s found something she can do, can contribute. “So I don’t step on any toes I shouldn’t be stepping on, but I’ll go through their press office officially. Maybe they’ll like an NSA analyst hero take. I can’t mention Frank, obviously. I’ll leave that part out.” Still, she defends him, protects him. He takes a quiet breath. He’s been used to that for a while now, pretty much for as long as he’s known her, but it still feels amazing every time. How much she thinks of him, how much she fights for him.

“I’m sure David will happily take the credit.” Frank remarks with some humour and giving the okay he knows Karen was silently asking him for.

“You should talk to him first,” Karen suggests to Sarah. “Make sure it’s what you want – what you all want.”

“Yeah, I will,” Sarah nods enthusiastically. “Thank you.”

“And I’ll make sure it’s published online too, given the audience.” Karen smiles back at Sarah and Frank is just so fucking proud of her. She’s so good, and smart. And she never gives in, never stops believing that standing up and fighting back is the right thing; that showing the truth and having faith that it will win.

He kisses her cheek, dragging up to her ear to practically nuzzle her when he remembers they’re in the Lieberman's kitchen. And Sarah is right there. He’s kind of stunned at how many firsts they still have considering she’s so heavily embedded in his thoughts, his actions. He pulls back instead of burying himself against her shoulder and she looks kind of stunned too, with this tiny, happy smile on her face as she looks back at him. He flicks his eyes to hers and they’re bright, and then he focuses back on her mouth and her smile is bigger, can see her starting to bite down on the inside of her lip to stop it getting even wider. He kisses her. Simple and quick, but open with his lips fully against hers.

When he pulls back this time she dips her head as a faint blush starts on her cheeks. Frank’s happy for his beard because he realises he’s just as affected. Then she tucks some hair behind her ear, slowly, and holds her palm against her cheek for a second before she meets his eyes again, fucking staring at him. And of course he wants to kiss her again. But properly. Wants to run his hand into her hair and tug her towards him. Then her eyes briefly shift to behind him and he remembers Sarah is right there. He clears his throat.

“I’ll uh,” he swallows. “I’ll go see what they’re doing.” He says from his position in front of Karen still. He touches her waist as he moves past her and heads for the living room.

“You two are really cute.” He hears Sarah declare as he gets to the doorway on the other side of the kitchen.

“Thanks.” Karen says and Frank can still hear her happy embarrassment in her voice.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t actually know about you until the start of the week.” Frank stops, stepping to the side of the doorway and makes the decision to stay there, and listen.

“We’re kind of private, I guess. And I work a lot. Life is…busy.” Karen explains and Frank tries to detect any discontent in her comment, but he can’t hear any.

“I was thinking though, going over some things. I think Frank may have sort of mentioned you before.” Sarah says and she’s obviously still moving, her voice changing as it’s blocked by something physically.

“What’d you mean?” Karen asks.

“Last year, we were talking…about…about trying to pick up and start again. Trying to keep going after…you know,” Sarah describes, her voice clear again and Frank imagines she’s standing in front of Karen now. “And he said that the only way out was to find something you care about. I’m pretty sure it was a someone, for him. You.”

“Oh.” Karen says quietly. Frank leans against the doorframe and releases a breath. Then footsteps, not Karen’s, they’re not purposeful enough. “Thanks.” She adds after a beat, even quieter, Frank can barely make it out.

“Sure.” Sarah says louder, perkier, more casual. Then her footsteps again as she presumably carries on clearing the table.

“So uh, how are you dealing with David being back?” Karen asks, her voice normal again. Frank should move, Frank should stop eavesdropping like a goddamn dick, but still he stands there and listens.

“I think I’ve finally reached the point where I can get annoyed at him for stupid stuff again. Like not turning off the lights or forgetting to take out the trash, you know? Like I don’t have to be so thankful he’s back that nothing else matters anymore.“ Sarah confides.

“I know what you mean.” Karen says, making Frank frown thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry, did you…did you lose someone recently?” Sarah asks, clearly having stilled again.

“Uh, actually I was thinking about Frank. A couple of times now I haven’t been sure that he wouldn’t… that he would still be around.” Karen explains making Frank let out a deep breath. He thinks about how she looked at him the night he came back, her yelling that she wanted him to stay. He thinks about how she’d looked at him the days after, like he was about to disappear in front of her.

“Right, of course. Of course you meant Frank. God, and even if you didn’t mean Frank you just told us about your brother,” Sarah says awkwardly, rambling. Frank thought maybe that was a habit she had picked up while David was gone, a consequence of no longer having a partner to talk to anymore. Frank had shut down, gone on the mission and shuttered himself. Sarah seemed to have done the opposite and Frank assumes still having to be a parent, a grown up, when he didn’t is what made the difference. “I don’t know why I asked. You just seemed… I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“It’s fine. I uh…I did, lose someone. Recently. So…” Karen says and Frank is convinced she’s got her arms crossed over her chest again, maybe holding onto her own torso at the sides. Goddamnit. What is it with the Lieberman females bringing up Murdock? Or is that what Karen needs to talk about? Frank always lets her bring him up, but she rarely does. Maybe he should be asking about him.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah offers. “Were you close?” The front door opens across the living room and Frank looks up and sees David who stops when he spots Frank. Frank holds up a hand when the hacker goes to speak. Thankfully he does as Frank demands, keeping his mouth shut, but he raises his eyebrows. Frank turns away from him, his ear back towards the kitchen.

“He was… Yeah, we were close.” Karen confirms and Frank would guess her eyes are shinning now. He screws his own eyes shut as he rests heavily against the doorframe.

“I must sound so ungrateful,” Sarah says apologetically. “Complaining even though I’ve gotten a second chance.”

“You don’t. I think it’s okay to want some normalcy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Karen reassures her and Frank wonders if Karen thinks they’re normal. Can they really be? How many lunches with the Lieberman's before they can be considered normal? Frank isn’t sure he wants to be normal, recognises that he can’t be. Not really. His shit isn’t something that’s all over now. It’s still his life. He's in a relationship, and he lives a life now, but it's still not normal. Does she want normal? An attorney for a partner kind of normal?

“You can probably tell that Zach's friends aren’t the only ones being unwelcoming,” Sarah laughs awkwardly. “None of our friends from before…" she trails off. "The people at work have been great, but they didn’t know David before. You and Pete are the first people we’ve had over. I’m sure it’s obvious.”

“I can’t really tell. This is sort of new for me too.” Karen says soothingly, understandingly.

“Well, you’re both welcome anytime!” Sarah offers in a lighter tone. “You’re a big hit with Leo and Zach.”

“Thanks.” Karen says. Frank stops listening, pushing himself off the wall and walks over to David who is staring expectantly at him.

“Not a damn word.” Frank warns as he reaches him, avoiding his eyes.

“Karen is pretty great.” David says after a second.

“Yeah.” Frank agrees, still caught up in his thoughts.

“Much better than you.” David decides and Frank is glad for something easy to glare about.

 

He’s watching Karen and Leo sitting on the stairs, with the pile of books from before between them that Leo is obviously talking to Karen about. The way Karen is smiling at her, indulging her, has Frank wondering if that is the kind of normalcy Karen wants. She’s so good with them. Doesn’t even know them but she’s been more than accepted by both Leo and Zach so damn quickly.

David and Zach are sitting on the couch next to him but he can’t take his eyes off the scene playing out on the stairs. He’s imagining Karen with blonde, blue-eyed kids before he can help it. Sitting read to them, smiling with love at them, them adoring her back. Then Lisa and Frank Jr. with them, and he can hear Maria laughing, and then Karen’s laugh joining hers and it’s like he’s back in that what if world again. A happiness that doesn’t exist, can’t exist. An interaction that doesn’t exist, can’t ever exist and that Frank has no right to even think about. Crippling panic quickly follows, and a desperate fear.

He wipes his mouth as he leans forward, looking away from the stairs and resting his elbows on his thighs. His trigger finger is tapping away. He’s thinking about what Sarah said to Karen, and that it was from this seat he first really mentioned Karen in this house. First started to really vocally acknowledge how much he did care about her, that she was affecting who he was, how he was, his actions, what he wanted, his understanding of what was possible for his life.

A throat clears and he shifts his eyes to look at David who is staring at him from the couch. Frank swallows, curling his hands together, pressing down on his trigger finger.

“You know, I thought living together would mean you wouldn’t be stalking her anymore.” David says, a casualness in his voice that contradicts the words.

“I didn’t stalk her.” Frank dismisses.

“How many times did you walk past her window waiting to see those flowers?” David argues.

“That she put there specifically to get my attention.” Frank points out, his voice low.

“Just sayin’, man.” David shrugs like he's made his point and he's happy about it.

“You wanna talk about cameras, David?" Frank snips back. David peers down at Zach next to him. Frank follows his attention and sighs. "I was just thinking.” he relents.

“About what?" David asks. "I mean, something more specific than ‘Karen Page’.”

Frank thinks about telling him. That he’s wondering if he can give Karen what she wants, wondering if it’s even what she wants. That sometimes he’s still so fucking terrified of losing everything again, everything he’s found since. He can’t even get through a goddamn lunch without losing his mind at this point. But it’s not like David could actually give him an answer. He shifts his eyes back to the stairs, Karen’s hair hanging in front of her as she looks down at the book opened on her lap. It’s something he needs to talk about with her and her alone. He shakes his head at David, dismissing it, then looks at Zach on David’s right. He’s staring at the TV that Frank is blanking out, finishing the extra dessert portion he’s been eating. Frank catches his eye when he leans forward to put his empty plate on the coffee table.

“You okay?” Frank asks him.

“Yeah.” Zach says easily, too easily.

“You sure about that?” Frank questions and Zach stops, his shoulders slumping.

“Yeah,” he repeats, more serious this time. “I’m okay,” David pats his son's shoulder. “Karen’s pretty cool by the way.” He adds quietly, tentatively. His comment is like David’s before. Frank’s gives a small smile as he nods his head, realising she’s gone from “your girlfriend” to “Karen” in the space of an afternoon and lunch. Just acknowledgment of her. Karen Page. Reporter. Friend. Lover. Advocate. Fighter. Mother?

“You done with that?” Frank asks Zach, nudging his head towards the plate. Zach nods and Frank pushes himself out of the chair and grabs the plate, needing an excuse for some kind of break.

He turns back and looks at the stairs again, unable to help himself, and Karen is looking at him. Leo is still talking at her but she’s staring at Frank. Then she gives him a small smile. Frank is starting to believe his sanity relies on that smile. Thinks he can chapter his life since he lost his family, by Karen Page’s smile. In the hospital, telling him about gingersnaps. In that diner, joking with him – the first time someone had joked with him in ages. And it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t put-on smiles. It was real. Fucking joking about shooting him, knowing what would make him smile back already. In the elevator as she gave him the strength to leave with that smile. When he came back, her smiling with Ellison as they talked about Ben Urich. That smile has guided him, given him strength, peace.

She looks away first, giving her attention back to Leo. Frank takes the plate through to the kitchen.

Sarah is wiping down the worktop.

“Zach's second helping,” he announces, raising the plate in gesture before putting it by the sink.

“Thanks.” Sarah says.

“How come you’re through here?” Frank asks.

“I just wanted to clean up.” she explains, continuing to wipe the surface.

“Looks like you’ve done that.” Frank states as he looks around the spotless kitchen with everything back where it should be. Sarah stops, taking a look at the room too.

“I guess it’s a mom thing, maybe? I dunno,” she sighs. “I know it doesn’t really do anything but part of me just goes to it, like I can have some level of control if I just…wipe everything a number of times until there’s no mess anymore?" she laughs, letting go of the cloth and leaning against the counter instead. "Habit I can’t break, gives me some comfort or something.”

“Yeah, guess we all have things like that, that…calm us down.” Frank says with a thoughtful frown, thinking about cleaning his weapons, about killing, about kicking Red in the gut, about Karen’s articles, about Karen’s smile.

“Karen’s great.” Sarah says and Frank wonders if his thoughts are that obvious.

“Yeah, that’s a popular Lieberman opinion.” He chuckles.

“Leo and Zach love her.” she smiles.

“She has that effect.” It’s out his mouth before he's thought about it, about what he was saying with those words. He stops and can feel Sarah has too, and is staring at him. He hasn’t told Karen he loves her yet, but he’s just blurting out shit like that to anyone now?

When he looks at Sarah, she’s staring at him with some kind of charmed, almost doe-eyed expression like she’s watching some kind of romance story playing out right in fucking front of her and fuck it but Frank thinks that maybe she is. The killer and the reporter that defends him. Fuck.

“I’m – I’m gonna…” he trails off, pointing to the door on the right of him, with his left hand, crossed over his body. He nods, not looking at her and turns to leave again.

“Pete?” She calls and Frank stops and tilts his head towards her, but doesn’t turn around. “I’m really happy for you, that you…found someone to walk down the street holding hands with.” He takes a step back, turning more in her direction but he bows his head now, his frown deepening. “Is that bad?” Sarah asks, with worry, like she thinks she’s overstepped. He starts to shake his head but she continues “I’m sorry. I got David back, I can’t really understand… I just… I remembered…what we talked about, you know, before. And I’m just…I’m glad you found…that, again. That you could…move on.”

He exhales, the breath going out of him. She doesn’t get it, she doesn’t get him. Being with Karen isn’t moving on. He never wanted to move on. He’s not with Karen because he wanted to hold hands with someone ever again, he wasn’t looking for it. He was going to be alone the rest of his life and was happy for that life to be short. It's only value was to kill those who took his family from him. He wasn't looking for someone else to find a life with. He’s with Karen because she’s Karen and he can’t not be with her, doesn’t want to be without her. He found life because he cared about Karen, not the other way around. It’s not the same for Frank as it was for Sarah. When Sarah looked at him, thought whatever possibility she briefly entertained, she wished he was David. She thought about the loss of David when she looked at him. It wasn’t about him. It isn't like that for Frank. And he doesn’t feel the same guilt about the idea of moving on like Sarah voiced she did because it isn’t about moving on for him. What is he supposed to say? That he wishes Karen was Maria? He doesn’t. But recognising that does make him feel guilty. He feels anger, a bitter resentment at the woman staring at him, because she’s right, she doesn’t have a fucking clue.

“Pete?” she says nervously.

It passes as quickly as it came, deflating away, because he likes Sarah, respects her. And she and David and their family back together and safe and simple is exactly what he wanted for them, what he risked his life for – that he chose to risk his life for, and it was the right thing to do. She doesn’t get it, get him, but that’s not her fault. He never gave her a chance to, never really showed himself. He tricked his way into her life, manipulated her by showing her what she wanted. She knows Pete, not Frank. And it’s probably a good thing she doesn’t really know him, because he doesn’t want to bring that kind of shit – the kind of shit only he is capable of bringing – into their lives anymore than he already has.

“Thanks, for having us for lunch. I really appreciate it.” is what he says, not knowing what else to. He turns fully to face her, looks her in the eye.

“Sh-sure,” she stammers, looking at him uncertainly before she finds footing in the change of subject. “I already told Karen you’re both welcome anytime. We should make it a regular thing."

“Hm.” He murmurs non-committedly, nodding a single nod, because he can’t agree to that without actually knowing how today has been for Karen, if she wants to do any of this again, if this is the normal she wants.

“You uh, you need any help?” Frank asks, pointedly looking around at the clean kitchen again. Sarah gives a small laugh. “You should come through.” He nudges his head at the door.

“I’ll be right there.” Sarah smiles as he heads back to the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and especially for kudos and comments :)
> 
>  
> 
> <https://secondfromtheright.tumblr.com/>


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter! And the next part of the Series will be the last one too, I think.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support for this :)

It’s another normal moment when Frank and Karen leave. Something he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and something that makes him think about Billy. It’s hugs and kisses all round when they say bye, because that’s what grown ups with friends do. It’s how it was with Billy. Maria would always hug him, kiss him on the cheek when he left. Always. Like family, like loved ones, like fully-functioning adults. It’s all so goddamn civilised and Frank really questions if he’s part of that world still. He figures he can fake it for times like these, for moments, but it can’t really be what he is. He has too much blood on his hands – too much blood that he doesn’t give a shit about being on his hands. Maybe some would think Karen does too. But for that smile that she’s aiming at Sarah as the two of them hold onto each’s arms before they go to hug again, Frank can fake it for that smile. Thinks maybe he can even believe it, with the rest of them all saying goodbye to him like he’s normal too, even David who knows a lot of what Frank has done. Still he welcomes Frank into his home, with his family. That counts for something.

But then maybe none of it means anything, considering Billy was faking the whole fucking time anyway. Or he wasn’t but it didn’t even mean anything, didn't mean enough. Frank doesn’t know which is worse. But Frank Castle isn’t Billy Russo. And no matter the shit Billy did, the coward, spineless piece of shit he really was, one thing Frank had right about him, that Billy always had wrong. Going from woman to woman, never finding someone to really match him, to keep with him, to fight with, and for. All Billy fought for was himself. Karen has kept Frank alive, living, and wanting to live. He's not Billy Russo, and he won't dismiss people treating him like he matters, like that bastard did.

 

The ride back is quieter than the one over – Karen is quieter. Frank reaches out and takes her hand. She turns to him and smiles. She looks tired, leaning her head back against the seat as she looks at him. Frank smooths his thumb over hers.

“Want me to contact Madani? For the story?” he whispers, grunting. He’s even more cautious of this cab. They called it instead of hailing it and Frank doesn’t believe for a fucking second that Homeland doesn’t have the Lieberman's under some kind of watch.

“No need,” she smirks at him. “I have her card too, remember. Actually, I think I have two.” She laughs, full smile in place.

Now he kisses her properly. Runs his hand through her hair at her neck, tugs her towards him.

“That's how is it?” he murmurs against her lips. It’s dark in the cab, a couple of hours after sunset, but the street lights they go past have her eyes sparkling at him.

“Exactly how it is.” She grins. She kisses him this time.

 

“You okay?” Frank asks her as she collapses on the couch with a sigh, her purse and coat flung on the seat behind.

“I didn’t realise family lunches were so exhausting.” Frank watches her stretch her neck out. And then as she leans forward and she slips her heels off, sitting them by the side of the couch. He still remembers the first time he saw her do that, when he came back, asking her for help in finding David. He still thinks about it. He’d watched her do it then, looking at her in a way he wasn’t used to looking at anyone anymore. She’d just been standing there, her back to him, but she’d had him captured so damn easily. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. That hasn’t changed, he’s still watching as she sits back again, tucking her legs underneath her. He didn't have a thing for pencil skirts before her.

“You were great. Better than great.” he praises, thinking about how much they’d all loved her. She stares up at him for a moment.

“You did a good thing, Frank.” She finally says.

“Hm?” He questions with a frown.

“You helped bring a family back together.” She explains quietly, still looking at him. Frank looks away, only acknowledging what she said with a nod.

“You’re good with them, Leo and Zach.” He says, broaching the subject that’s been niggling all afternoon.

“I thought you might mean David and Sarah.” She teases, her lips curling.

“Really, you’re a natural.” He continues, not teasing back. He can’t right now. She lets out sigh as she sits up.

“You can ask me, if I want kids. That is what you wanna ask me, right?” she questions, reading him as always. He looks down at her silently.

“Do you?” he risks asking, barely a whisper out his mouth. He finds himself holding his breath, keeping still.

“Are you going to sit down? You’re doing that hovering thing.” She raises her eyebrows at him, waiting for him. He gives into her, as always, sitting down next to her, his body feeling heavier than it has all day. He’s still silent, waiting for her now. “I don’t know, Frank.” She finally says with a shake of her head. “I mean, that’s what I thought would happen, that’s what everybody thinks life will be, right? You meet…that person. Get married. Have a family. And spend your life together.” She lists, turning away from him. He faces her fully in response, wanting to read her as much as he can. She licks her lips, biting her bottom one as she stares ahead.

“Karen?“ he prompts when she’s quiet.

“It’s what you did.” she points out, turning back to face him.

“I didn’t know it was what I wanted until it was already happening.” he adds. Sure, she's right in that it is what he assumed he'd have in life, but he wasn't exactly looking for the full thing when it came. Maria got pregnant so early in their relationship. And he was so excited, and ready for it when he found out. Made sure he was ready, though he was also terrified. He never not wanted that life, but he hadn't planned for it before it was already decided for him.

“But you would choose it again; you were happy.” She says earnestly, an understanding, small smile on her face that he doesn’t think he deserves. He doesn’t know how to tell that he doesn’t know what he would choose, that his mind keeps trying to put the two lives together instead. So he hedges, ignoring the first part of it.

“I was happy. And just about the only thing I'd have given it up for is…them to be safe. But Karen, I’m happy with you too.” He tilts his head, trying to catch her eyes because this is important. He’s still kinda fucked in his head, but he does know this. He is happy here, with her. He doesn’t know if he can give her everything she might want, but he wants her. He does choose to be here.

"Me too," she whispers with shining eyes, reaching out and covering his hand with hers. He grips her thumb that's over his. “But anyway…I don’t know,” she says louder, with a sniff. “As was pointed out today, the way I do my job is pretty dangerous, I guess. It’s hardly the kind of life I can live if I’m pregnant, or have kids. But I have no intention of stopping. I love it,” she says, finally turning back to him. “So… It’s not something I’m thinking about right now.”

“Okay.” He nods, staring into her eyes. He feels a fucked up mix of relief and disappointment. He focuses on the fact that she was effectively talking about both of them, acknowledging the life he lives too, and he knows she meant to.

“Okay.” She echoes quietly, another smile starting.

“Yeah, okay.” He smirks, nodding again.

“I know it wasn’t easy for you, caring about someone again.” She says honestly. He doesn’t like indication of gratitude in the way she sounds.

“Caring about you wasn’t difficult, Karen. Caring about you was the easy part. Didn’t get a say in it. From the second you came at me in the hospital… And I never wished it differently, didn't fight it. It helped me, made me feel...made me _feel_ something again. It was letting you care about me that was the hard part. I wanted better for you, better than me. Something…normal.” He says, putting it out there. The normalcy she voiced to Sarah, that she understood her wanting – he wanted that for her too, even if he knew it wasn’t exactly what she was. She dug out the unique, the unspoken.

“I wanted you.” She says simply, unapologetically. The knot that’s been building all day unwinds. He leans back, his ear pressing against the sofa as he keeps his attention on her. He reaches over and runs his thumb along her lip, wiping at the corner of her mouth where there’s still the faint stain of red wine.

“I hate red wine,” she complains, reading his mind. “You know, when it isn’t already in the food. I was jealous of your beer.”

“I noticed.” He raises his eyebrows once, still staring at her lips as he strokes them.

“I wanted to be polite.” She pouts, made even more obvious as her lips push against his thumb.

“Have a beer next time.” He smiles at her, rubbing at her lip again. He could tell her he loves her now. Here in this apartment that he feels at home in with her, her looking at him with warm eyes, his hand on her mouth, touching the markings of proof of their life together. But like the other times he's almost said it, it’s not as perfect as he wants it to be for her because there’s still something else, another part of the conversation. He touches the corner of her mouth one more time before letting his hand drop, watching as she rubs her lips together in response.

“Do you wanna talk about him?” he asks, feeling oddly brave as he stares into her eyes.

“My brother?” she questions with a dip of her brows.

“Or Red – Murdock. I…heard you mention him to Sarah,” he says, leaving the way he would have heard that unsaid but obvious, not wanting to hide it from her. He doesn’t want to prove David right after all, not that his friend has any kind of high ground on the subject of spying on loved ones. “And, you know, at lunch with Leo's question about him.” he adds.

“Oh.” She breathes, her eyes falling half-closed as she looks down. “I don’t want to talk about my brother, not just now. And Matt…” she pauses. “I don’t know.” She whispers as she turns her eyes back to him. Frank thinks he can hear guilt in that whisper. Maybe even shame.

“Should I be asking you about him?” he asks, thinking of his thoughts earlier. “You never really talk about him.” She talks about him less than Frank talks about his family, but Karen has always been so encouraging of him talking about them. She listens to everything he says without judgement, always has. He doesn’t know if he can offer her the same kind of compassion when it comes to Red. He has his own opinions about him.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, that he’s really gone.” She says. He remembers that kind of feeling, but with every breath he took, with every action he did he was so aware that his family weren’t there anymore. For Frank, it felt like he was the one who wasn’t real. He thinks about her saying she didn't know if he was gone earlier, wonders if that's just what she meant, or if there’s more. She seemed so genuine at the table.

“Karen, you…” he trails off and tries again. “Do you think he’s alive?” he asks bluntly. She turns away from him, shifting her body so she’s facing forward again.

“Sometimes I read reports, or talk to sources,” she starts, staring ahead of her. “About a single man taking out a group of people. Descriptions of a smooth, skilled fighting style. And I’ll think it’s him…but then there’s always something about blonde hair, or the man being chatty…or a golden fist.” She swallows, tilting her head down and letting her hair fall against her face. Frank reaches out and tucks some of the blonde hair behind her ear so he can see her. She turns her head towards him, engaging with him fully again. “His body was never found. Don’t you think it’s maybe possible?”

Frank’s the one to break eye contact now, wanting the time to think about what to say to her.

“As someone who faked his own death, yeah, it’s maybe possible,” he concedes slowly. “But Karen,” he faces her again, noticing her frown. “I didn’t know much about the guy but I don’t think anything would keep him away from this city if he had any say in it. I can’t imagine him choosing anything but to protect it, to be out there.” he’s trying to be gentle, for her. Doesn’t want to say that part of him thinks maybe Red is actually a selfish tool, that he picks and chooses when to listen to his own lecturers on morality. Frank watched him kill someone, throw him off a roof with wire wrapped around his neck. Frank knows he would have felt the pull, the yank when the guy's neck snapped. He doesn’t blame Murdock for that choice, would have made the same one, especially with the way Murdock had cradled that female body the group were obviously responsible for, but Frank also remembers every damn speech Red pulled on him about the sanctity of life and that night Murdock proved he was no different than him. But through all that shit, he does fully believe that if Red could be out there, he would be.

“You’re right.” Karen says quietly.

“I’m sorry.” He offers when he sees her wipe away a tear before it can fall. “You never really told me what happened.” He says, opening the subject. If she wants to talk about it, he’ll listen. He’s kind of curious anyway.

“I don’t really know.” she whispers.

“In what world do you not know everything about something that important to you?” He questions, because there's so much wrong with that picture. Is that what Murdock does to her? Takes away everything Karen Page about her?

“I’m scared, I guess. I didn’t want to know,” She shakes her head, pressing her fingers against her mouth for a moment as she takes a breath to try to steady herself. “Foggy knows more than me,” she continues, her head falling away. “A…mutual friend, of Matt's, she was there. They all went in to save the day, and Matt…chose to stay till the end.” Frank thinks that mutual friend may be a source or something, by the look on her face – he knows that look. Jessica Jones is the only female Defender he’s aware of but he knows Rand partners with a woman sometimes too.

“Sounds like Red.” He says, thinking Red probably would have stayed just to make a damn point. But Frank wonders how much more there is to it, what Karen doesn’t know.

“Remember the rooftop?” she questions, capturing his attention again. “The night I…saw you?” she exhales as she stares at him. For a long time Frank thought that would be the last time he’d see Karen Page. Or at least the last she saw him. It was an early example of how much she affected him. He’d only stood there like that for her. A weakness, maybe. It didn't feel like one, still doesn’t, but he’d risked everyone seeing him so she could see him. It was when he’d made the choice to fully take on the role of The Punisher, to give up everything else, including her. But still, he couldn’t resist that last moment of her. He probably should have predicted the world would become aware of him being alive by him doing something for her. He’d exposed himself to and for her numerous times already. Now he lives for and with her, which he couldn’t have imagined that night on the rooftop. He’d only found out after that she’d been a fucking hostage that night too.

“Hm.” He grunts with a nod, too lost in his thoughts for much else.

“It was the same group. An organisation that…” she trails off.

“What?” He prompts. He never knew much about them. They were skilled, that was obvious, and he shot them, taking them out. That was all he needed to know then. It makes things more interesting though, it makes sense. If Red chose to go out taking out the group that killed that woman he held, Frank understands that, he’s done that.

“They’re just…weird.” She frowns.

“Weird?” he echoes flatly. Weird like Red was?

“Supernatural kind of weird. I don’t…” she looks away from him, hanging her head. “I don’t know much.” She says, as close to a lie as she would give to him. She’s obviously keeping something back, but Frank also can tell it’s because she’s not ready for it. It’s what she’s scared about, what she’s chosen not to look further into and he isn’t going to push her.

“Weird.” He says again with a nod, accepting she isn’t going to say anything more about them. Karen gives him a small, thankful smile.

“I should have realised he was Daredevil that night.” she adds, and that guilt is back in her voice.

“He rescued you.” he assumes.

“Yeah, and he was…different. Familiar” She swallows, dipping and turning her head, avoiding his eyes again. Frank is pretty sure what ‘familiar’ means based on that reaction. He has to stop the scoff wanting to come out. Karen hasn’t mentioned the woman on the roof. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t know about her, who she is, but Frank doubts she does. The woman was kitted out like Red was, she was clearly aware of that side of his life. Frank wouldn’t have guessed Red was a player with how goddamn moral he liked to remind people he was, but Karen down on the street while a woman he obviously loved died in his arms on the roof above? What the fuck? “That was the last time he was Daredevil, before… He stopped after that. He told me not long after.” She sniffs. Frank is starting to get a timeline in his head that has this nameless woman heavily influencing Red and what he chose. He'd saved one of them from that group, and lost the other.

“How’d uh, how’d things…end, between you two?” He asks, thinking maybe it’s less heavy and selfishly, he wants to know. Thinks maybe he needs to know. Is she with him because she can’t be with Murdock?

“Not great. I wasn’t exactly supportive,” she gives a sardonic curl of her lips. “I didn’t understand why.”

“Why?” he repeats.

“Why he was still doing it, risking so much of his life, of Foggy’s life,” she explains, her voice steadying as she gets worked up, anger. “He told me to my face he didn’t miss it.”

“He lied.” he says.

“Yeah, of course he lied. He always lied!” she spits bitterly as she turns to fully face him again, the anger and frustration obvious in her expression too, but it mostly melts away, her shoulders dropping as she sighs. “He never gave me a chance to...I just wish he had talked to me. I can’t…” she trails off, licking her lip.

“Talk to me.” He encourages, deliberate about the comparison he’s making. He and Karen are not the same as Murdock and Karen. He never really saw them together, knows almost nothing about their relationship, but this he knows. He and Karen are honest, and he refuses to lose that. It was the first comparison Karen made between them too, in the diner. He isn’t sure how much she still compares them, if she wishes he were him, if she’s with Frank because he’s not him even, but he won’t let her down like Murdock did.

“I worry I never knew him at all,” she reveals, shifting her body as she turns inwards again, opening up to him in a way he craves. “And I don’t know how to deal with that. I don’t know where to start.”

“I doubt it’s that simple,” He counters. “Just because you didn’t know everything doesn’t mean you knew nothing,” He doesn’t want to stick up for Murdock, but he can relate here. He kept a lot back from his family, trying to protect them. There was a lot of shit Maria didn’t know, but she knew him, she knew there was something wrong. “You knew there was something you didn’t know.” He adds, remembering the way she looked at him in that diner. Now she isn’t looking at him at all, heavily frowning as she keeps her head down, thoughtful. “Karen?” he asks.

“Matt knew there was something wrong. With me. After…” she stops.

“After Wesley.” he finishes for her, saying what she can't.

“Yeah. He asked me about it, said there was something…in my voice,” she swallows, her frown tightening. Frank nods. He knows she didn’t tell Murdock. Knows he didn't know about her brother either. Maybe she took a cue from Murdock, didn’t feel like she could be her full self when she knew he wasn’t being his, but Murdock wasn’t the only one who kept things back. He wonders if she regrets it, if she has her own what if dreams, if some of her dreams are about a reality where Karen and Matt Murdock are honest with each other like Frank and Karen are and she wakes up wishing Frank by her side was Matt Murdock by her side. He wonders if she reads reports about him, looking for Daredevil in his actions. He leaves a lot more people alive these days to talk about him, more first-hand sources for her to learn from.

Curt’s right, he is a wallowing asshole. She told him 10 minutes ago she’d wanted him, and he trusts her, believes in her. This is just another part of her he understands, another part of him she surprisingly echoes.

“You are pretty easy to read.” He gives a half-smirk.

“Oh yeah?” she smiles back, giving a small chuckle.

“It’s not a bad thing, Karen,” he says more seriously. “Your heart is…” he trails off, nodding his head awkwardly, unable to finish. She presses her lips together as her eyes tear up again.

“I miss him,” she sniffs. “Matt and Foggy…they were my family. They made me believe people could be good again. Everything they did for me, that Matt did for me when I first met them. I just miss them. I miss going to Josie’s, feeling like I was discovering myself again through them, who I was, who I could be.” She smiles sadly.

“You still have Foggy.” He points out.

“Not really. He’s moved on too.” She sighs, leaning her head back against the couch.

“I doubt he’s giving any other reporters scoop on the cases at his company when they bat their eyes at him.” He teases. He’s seen her do it with him. He acts so outraged at her request, like it’s an offence because he’s such a big, corporate lawyer these days and he would never not do anything by the corporate book. Then Karen starts talking about some unjust incident that she just needs to confirm something about, or a lead of some kind. She says please, widens her eyes at him. Then Nelson will look all conflicted and harassed before giving her exactly what she wanted. She pretty much gets endlessly free legal advice from him too. And he always says it will be the last time with what Frank figures he thinks is a stern voice. It usually makes Frank chuckle.

“Maybe,” she gives a small smile. “He has Marci though. He’s making a new family.” She muses. He watches her, searching her face, letting it give him some strength as he takes a deep breath.

“And you have me," he risks, feeling his chest tighten, his breathing quicken. "Right?”

“Frank.” she breathes as she looks back at him.

“I mean that is…that is what we’re doing, right?” he asks, unable to look away from her.

“Yeah, yes.” she nods, a tearful smile spreading across her face.

“Good.” he says quietly, his breathing still too fast.

“Frank.” she repeats as she leans over and hugs him, pressing herself fully against him. He brings his arms around her, pulling her in and breathes, in and out, trying to steady himself again.

“I suppose I could deal with going for a beer with Foggy and his girlfriend.” he says, finally offering that beer.

“Really?” she pulls back to look at him, a huge smile on her face that only gets wider when he nods. She launches herself at him again, making this happy sound that he wants to hear over and over.

“It's been a while since I’ve actually sat down for a drink in a dive bar.” He says, resting his chin on Karen’s shoulder.

“You’ll love Josie. I think she could out-glare even you. You can complain with Marci if you don’t.” She laughs quietly, turning her head so her mouth is brushing against his ear. He can both hear and feel her smile. He exhales, happy to stay like this, but his phone beeps. He’s going to ignore it but Karen pulls away and gives him a small smile. She exhales and runs a hand through her hair.

“Coffee?” she asks, uncurling her legs and getting up.

“Always.” He watches her walk to the kitchen area. Even seeing her tuck her hair behind her ear from behind has his attention. She fills the of the drip coffee maker and sets it on before grabbing two mugs from the rack at the sink, placing them on the counter. She touches the hyacinths that are also on the counter. Karen likes to move them around the apartment, but often they end up on the island itself. Frank isn’t sure why – there’s little space on the counter as it, but he can’t help thinking about the roses he brought her when he came to her door. That’d sat on that island, she never moved them somewhere else. Watching her dip her head to smell the hyacinths, he can’t help but think about that night, their first night. She looks over at him and he doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not watching her. She touches the plant again, delicately brushing her finger across the bloom.

“Are you going out tonight?” she questions over the gurgling of the coffee. He smirks, giving a low chuckle. ‘Are you going to kill anyone tonight?’ is really what’s being asked. Karen has managed to normalise being The Punisher, humanise him. The Punisher who has a partner who asks him if he’s going out to hurt people. She’s always tried to champion his humanity side, always brought it out of him, always tried to make others believe it exists.

“No, kind of want to stay in tonight.” He says with some suggestion in his voice. It’s not a difficult choice to make. He still feels the pull, the need, to take control of the streets. He still feels something being sated inside of him when he does hurt, maime, kill those that deserve it, but he isn’t unsettled until he does. He isn’t twitchy, sitting still in the apartment with Karen. He just wonders if she is okay to ask him that question for the foreseeable future, or if it will get too much for her.

He empties his pockets on the coffee table, making more of a point that he is staying in. Handling his phone he remembers the message he got some minutes before. It’s a Whatsapp message from David, an image, that has his frowning in question at what he’d be sending him, especially as the message with it is 'Leo said you should have this.' When he opens the conversation he finds himself stunned, bringing his phone closer to stare at the image he’s been sent. Part of him knows he should be concerned that a picture was taken of him in a vulnerable position and he didn’t have a fucking clue, but all he can focus on is the way he’s looking at Karen in the picture. Leo have taken it when he’d started to freak out, dragging Karen into the corner of the kitchen as the others were moving all around them, setting up the table. He finally has a picture of Karen, of both of them, but he didn’t think it would be like this. It’s not posed at all. He doesn’t look like a killer – neither does she – they look like a normal couple, a couple in love. Frank doesn’t know if he’s ever looked like that, that distracted, that consumed, that open. He doesn’t look like a Frank Castle he recognises.

It's nothing like the picture of Karen, Foggy and Murdock either. There’s no posing smiles. It’s completely natural, and completely raw. Frank can’t tell the definition of Karen and Murdock’s relationship in that picture; it’s impossible not to see Karen and Frank as together, as affected, as a pairing, in this picture.

“Everything okay?” he’s pulled out of his thoughts by Karen standing at the couch with two mugs in her hand, staring down at him with a worried frown.

“Yeah,” he assures, his voice more broken than he meant and it only has her frown deepening. He clears his throat, reaching out to take the mugs off her and putting them on the coffee table as she sits down next to him. “Everything’s great.”

 

Two nights after drinks with Foggy, he’s out for the first time in over a week. He’s dumping some piece of scum at the station. He hasn’t been careful with the fucker; at least three broken ribs, his face already swollen from Frank’s hits and a bullet wound in his shoulder, but he is alive. As Frank literally drops him in the back alley, shoving him forward until he falls on his face with a groan, Frank wonders exactly who he’s become. He remembers telling Red he was just one day away from being him, and he’s convinced Red proved it that night on the roof. But not for a fucking second did he think he’d turn into Red with a few good days. He didn't think he'd ever have a good day again. But here he is, letting this shit live, handing him over, and he’s going to go home to a woman he loves, and lives some kind of normal by day life with. What’s scarier than the burn he feels in his chest at that notion is the fact that he’s so damn happy about it, doesn't want to change any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and especially for the kudos and comments. I hope you liked it.
> 
> I'll hopefully have something of the next and last part of the Series up soon.
> 
>  
> 
> <https://secondfromtheright.tumblr.com/>

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> <https://secondfromtheright.tumblr.com/>


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